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NaPoWriMo 2025, day 14: buzzed

April 14, 2025
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(From the website’s prompt for day 14: “Today, try writing a poem that describes a place, particularly in terms of the animals, plants or other natural phenomena there. Sink into the sound of your location, and use a conversational tone. Incorporate slant rhymes (near or off-rhymes, like ‘angle’ and ‘flamenco’) into your poem. And for an extra challenge – don’t reference birds or birdsong!”)

buzzed

rumor has it that horny cicadas/have a cacophonous periodicity/doing the buzzbuzzbuzzmate deed as/cyclewax fills, and in this vicinity

all around me the hereiamfuckme bugs/meet their seventeen-year obligation/shedding skins as their synthesized noisymoogs/vibrate like crazy in arthropod nowpassion

not too romantic to my human taste you see/but different strokes, different folkcritters, yes?/their peculiar frequency mastery/gets exempted from cutesy-poo spattermess.

NaPoWriMo 2025, day 13: Grudging Admiration

April 13, 2025
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Through Year Two Oh Two Five we are now trudging.

A shaky future threatens, and our nation

Towards a fascist state seems to be nudging.

Good Sense and Decency are on vacation,

With Propaganda rife, while fact-check fudging

Enables misbegotten peroration

Incitement to a reputation-smudging

Sedition with a strident ululation

That tarnishes our once-proud home’s escutcheon

And sparks a mob unto its satiation.

Goodbye to Smooth Transition. The curmudgeon

Lame Duck-In-Chief now past all expiation

Somehow yet rules. Most lands find this disgusting.

And Loyalists with their ingratiation

Betray us every day. Yes, this is judging.

Let all who read now note my admiration

For Tricky Dick’s persuaders, though it’s grudging.

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Historical note: Senators Barry Goldwater and Hugh Scott, and House Minority Leader John Rhodes, met then-president Richard Nixon in the Oval Office on August 7, 1974 and persuaded him to resign.

NaNoWriMo 2025, day 12: The Snuff of Legends

April 12, 2025
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Thor had red hair long ago/And a beard/And a boy companion named Thialfi/And he drank so much ocean the tide ebbed/Not noticing his beer was actually seawater

Millennia later Stan Lee came along/Having co-created superheroes and having space to fill in the monster-genre comic Journey Into Mystery/He told his brother Larry to bring thunder god Thor into the fold/And Larry and Jack “King” Kirby concocted a myth of a myth/Turning timid but worthy Dr. Don Blake into the hammer-wielding blonde prettyboy Thor/And with the hammer BlakeSlashThor discouraged some rockpile-looking invaders from Saturn from conquering the Earth

Silly though this may seem/A not-even-mint copy of Journey Into Mystery #83 is now on sale on eBay/With an asking price of $39,500.00 US

(But hey–free shipping)

And Thor became the stuff of new legends

And is now featured in several movies

But the Marvel Cinematic Universe retrofit the Thor legend to mostly ditch Dr. Don Blake and turn Jane Foster from Blake’s decorative, pining nurse to a kickass scientist specializing in weird energies

So there’s now a myth of a myth of a myth

Please look into it if you haven’t

You don’t want to myth out

NaPoWriMo 2025, day 11: kelly day, lpn

April 11, 2025
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we loved each other, me and baby jane.

a nurse is picking poppies from a tray.

these are the roots of rhythm which remain.

.

from self-constructive actions we abstain

when far more urgent pleasures bid us play.

we loved each other, me and baby jane.

.

the nurse as effervescent as champagne

draws from the poppies freedom from dismay.

these are the roots of rhythm that remain.

.

a unicorn, that well-named lpn,

a name that sounds so much like quelle idée.

we loved each other, me and baby jane.

these are the roots of rhythm that remain.

.

Song samplings are from “Me and Baby Jane” by Leon Russell and “Under African Skies” by Paul Simon.

NaPoWriMo 2025, day 10: metronome

April 10, 2025
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our autonomics do not deliberate/they liberate our thoughts/commandeer/process-engineer pulse and impulse/yet if a compulsive gambler/lets sleep deprivation rive his circadians/he may convulse/derivative of imbalance/navigating not with degrees/but radians

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the invariant beat of a metronome/substrates our home and hearth/dictates non-invasively whilst we unwary anthromorphs/stave parthogenesis where most the menace is/and keep on step with the rest of the help and hearty/party on to the beat of the back&forther

NaPoWriMo 2025, day 8: Ghazaler’s Djinn

April 8, 2025
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Amping up a lamp with rubadub and easy grin

(Poof!)

A puff of smoke that coalesced into a kickass Djinn.

My wish list is imagined for what seems an easy win.

“Three wishes, three commands” exclaimed the energetic Djinn.

“Then cook me up a lass,” I ask, “A body built for sin!”

(Poof!)

“Alas, the sin is Gluttony,” replied the pranking Djinn.

“I better be more careful,” I intoned with some chagrin,

“So, second wish: Ten Million Bucks,” I told the eager Djinn.

(Poof!)

Ten Million pairs of pants appeared. I groaned, my patience thin.

“Last wish: Just make me happy,” I implored the wayward Djinn.

(Poof!)

And Gary disappeared like calamari on a wharf

And in his place stood Happy, who is Snow White’s Seventh Dwarf.

NaPoWriMo 2025, day 7: Mount Rushnomore

April 7, 2025
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I will never be a head on Mount Rushmore/Nor cast my capitated lot/With those four dead presidents/Whence came such woe/So I humbly propose:/Those who wish my Wright[my middle and momside family name]eous visage/sculpted on a mountain/fountain up some seed money,/Honey, and let’s make a Mount Rushnomore/For me and three nonslaveinvolving pals to be headscaped/Scrapedstoned/Shape-cloned into a fitting nonument to lay-backedness/Stray-hackedness and politically neutral

You troll no one when you’re Mount Rushnomoring/Soaring instead above such strife-begetting matters

Begatters of aggression (TR) andor passive-aggression (AL) andor typo-critical hypocrisy (TJ) andor domestic oppression with a side of cruelty (GW) will be invited to mend their ways

Raise the money and let me sculpt a scale model/What’ll consist of Jane [That was my mom’s first name too) Goodall and Jeff Bridges as The Dude/Who’d be between the Great/Raitt, Bonnie and me

See us under anarchic Antarctic ice/After we reverse the genocidotropic anthropic climate alteration

Altercation-quelling proof as snow and then ice resettles on our gently smiling phizzes/Whizzes a more humane humanity into the Undark Ages and that gentle snowfall and ice incrustation on the newly snowcapped peaks of Mount Rushnomore will be the icing on the cake clique

Unique.

NaPoWriMo 2015, day 4: bird flue

April 4, 2025
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the birds are crafty/they invade my attempts to make functional pottery/and rise from the wreckage of a wobbly vase

they whisper hurry up when i am raising a cylinder/and hurrying up guarantees the disaster of asymmetry

and then they wheedle i can still be a bird

and they goad and seduce/until a new bird arrives/not hatched but crafted

it is worse than the alfred hitchcock movie

no tippi hedren for one thing

the birds come in jester and gargoyle/for another

and i am the villain for a third

most horrifying of all: i love them/like rosemary loved her baby/like subbies love doms

they fill a table and cram/shelves and nooks/of my apartment

and i can’t wait to make the next one

and have it escape up the flue of my creative fireplace

a birthright citizen of Phoenix

NaPoWriMo 2025, day 3: The Potter’s Progress

April 3, 2025
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Note: The prompt offered on the NaPoWriMo website invited poets to explain obliquely why they are poets and not something else. But I AM something else, so let’s see what happens when I start with that.

These pieces were done by the author on April Third, 2025, at Lively Minds Art Studio.

The Potter’s Progress

Clay speaks to me tactilely/And telepathically

I need form/I need life

Clay chides me here and there

I deserve better/I do not deserve slapdash

Clay on the wheel connects me/With the Spin with which Creation began

That hum you hear is Universal

Clay has her delights and cruelties/And sometimes a will of her own

Stop trying to make a bowl. I do not want to be a bowl. Make me into a bird with four eggs on my back.

Sometimes cleanup is messy./Beware her dust!

Clay urges me to improve./I asked her why she was so demanding.

You know it is not I who demands. It is you yourself.

I am however thrilled that you do so.

It’s good for both of us, Darling.